


Wistful

by AmelieofK



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:15:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26199184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmelieofK/pseuds/AmelieofK
Summary: Theirs was a love that should not have been. Yet, it survived over the years, through the lives of those who love them dearly.
Relationships: Goo Junhoe/Kim Jinhwan
Comments: 16
Kudos: 24





	1. A Love Against All Odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junhoe fell in love when he was barely an adult. Jinhwan was his first love and he would come to realise that Jinhwan would probably be the only one his heart was capable of loving.

**_1960's, Jeju Island_ **

Junhoe had fallen in love at the tender age of seventeen and like all first loves, which only had pure emotions attached to them, it had unfolded in a dream-like, fantastical manner.

It was sophomore year and he had boarded the public bus at the start of every semester, like he always did, to get to school. He did not mind the long commute on the bus. It gave him the opportunity to write, an activity he discovered he had thoroughly enjoyed as he came of age.

He remember the first time his eyes had set upon Jinhwan. In his mind, his memories, beautiful as they are, had taken on the sepia tones of a forgotten polaroid; of himself, tall, gangly and awkward dressed casually in his sweats, his blond wash fading and interspersed wth streaks of black, biting the tail end of his cheap blue penbetween his lips, when the bus hissed to a stop at one of the posh neighbourhoods in Jeju. The bus rarely stopped here. Unless, it was one of the help from the big houses on the way to the market.

A ray of light, blinding, shining from the entrance and Jinhwan appeared like a vision; unbidden and absolutely welcome. Jinhwan, who looked pristine in a green shirt, as fair as a maiden from some Joseon era painting with his tousled, peach hued hair collected around a white headband, had made Junhoe totally forgot about the pen in his mouth. Even when the pen rolled off his chest and clattered to the floor, Junhoe could not care less. He was completely enamoured. All he could see was how fine that hair was as Jinhwan bounded onto the bus with a smile carved on his lips, effervescent like the spring flowers in full bloom.

“Ya~Koo Junhoe, are you okay? Have you lost your mind?” Yunhyeong suddenly appeared before him on the front seat, holding up his pen. Junhoe’s gaze however was still on the boy who just got up the bus and was now sitting on the seat opposite the aisle where Yunhyeong was sitting. Junhoe smirked at Yunhyeong in chagrin, snatching his pen back. Yunhyeong shook his head muttering, “ _Michyeosseo_.” Under his breath before turning back to the front, gazing out the window at the line of stores the bus was passing by. Junhoe returned his gaze to the boy, blushing slightly when he realised that the boy was glancing back at him with interest. The smile was still there though, but only a shadow, as if he was apprehensive.

Junhoe had flashed one of his sheepish smiles, bowing slightly in response and was rewarded by the smile that reminded him of the English gardens he had only seen in the Cambridge textbooks he used to read about in grade school. The boy nodded and then he was gazing out of the window, enjoying the scenery and Junhoe was left with admiring the swell of one smooth cheek which had a beauty mark on it.

It would take him two more bus rides to garner enough courage to ask for a number, an action which had resulted in Yunhyeong incessantly teasing him. Junhoe barely cared as he glanced at the cursive writing scrawled hurriedly on the blank piece of paper he had torn off from his notebook full of poems.

‘ _Kim Jinhwan, 02-690281_ ’

He always alighted a few stops before Junhoe’s school and Junhoe wondered where he was going.

The day after he had asked for his number, Jinhwan no longer boarded the bus. Junhoe had spent the day in school thinking about him. Yunhyeong had teased him once more, reminding him that the likes of a rich boy like that could not possibly want to associate himself with Junhoe. After school, Junhoe had immediately got to the nearest public phone and dialled the number, pushing Yunhyeong out of the phone booth unceremoniously, folding the door close. Yunhyeong had made funny faces from the outside and Junhoe had rolled his eyes, muffling laughter as he heard the line connecting with excruciating slowness.

“Kim residences.” The voice at the other end announced and Junhoe cleared his throat because it sounded all solemn and serious.

“Um…yes, can I speak with Kim Jinhwan, please?” He had held the receiver tightly with both hands, heart beating wildly in his chest, wondering if he would perish if he would even survive after this.

“Just a moment, please.” The voice responded after a momentary pause. Then there was a pause, a click and then another ringing tone as if the person on the other line had to connect him to another line.

“Hey, Jinhwan here. Who’s there?” And Junhoe must have died because that voice had all the melodic and dulcet quality of an angel harking his arrival to the gates of heaven. “Hello?” Came the quizzical inquiry when Junhoe had a momentary lapse of manna and was unable to answer.

“Hi.” He urgently answered when he realised Jinhwan was waiting for him on the other line. “Hi, it’s me, the boy on the bus.” Silence. Absolute silence and Junhoe thought at first that he must have thought what a loser and then had hung up.

“Is…is that your name, then? Boy on the bus?” There was mirth and dose of flirtatious teasing in that voice, which made Junhoe felt as if his heart would leap up his throat and cough itself out from between his trembling lips. He almost dropped the receiver but caught it in time before it clattered to the ground.

“Uh…no, no my name is uh…” Shit, what was his name!” Um…Junhoe. Koo Junhoe.” He quickly answered, laughing nervously.

“Junhoe. How unique!” He exclaimed and Junhoe had a clear vision of Jinhwan; probably lying on his bed in his posh room, propped on his elbows against lush pillows, legs in the air as he cradled the phone against the crook of his small shoulder, probably laughing at him and his anxious ass.

“Thanks.” Junhoe exhaled. The booth suddenly rattled and Junhoe turned, finding Yunhyeong slapping his hands violently on the door and gesturing to his wrist. He snarled silently at Yunhyeong, flashing his middle finger then turned back.

“So Junhoe, what are you up to?” Jinhwan asked. “I assume school’s over?”

“Yeah…it is. I was…I was wondering why I didn’t see you on the bus today?” Junhoe asked.

“Why? Did you miss me?” Jinhwan laughed and Junhoe could already imagine that garden of a smile, and those light brown eyes, lucid under the sun like honey gold.

“Maybe.” Junhoe whispered.

“Well, I had to take the bus to school because the family car was being serviced and my dad couldn’t drive me the last three days so…” Jinhwan’s muttered. “Aren’t you glad you asked for my number yesterday?” He asked again and Junhoe felt his heart tremble once more.

“I was wondering if you would…like to meet me after school tomorrow?” Junhoe asked, swallowing the constriction in his throat, praying fervently that Jinhwan would hear his pleas and agree.

As it was, Jinhwan would agree and they would go on datesafter school, almost everyday thereafter. Each day, Junhoe would give him a letter filled with poems and sonnets, reading them aloud for Jinhwan once he had opened and perused them. They would sit somewhere; in the park, the diner or the stone benches at the peak of Mount Jeju where their dates would end. By the first week, they were holding hands; Junhoe’s large fingers gripping Jinhwan’s small ones in his fist as they walked the downtown area, both their hearts full of cheer. They had their first kiss at the top of Mount Jeju by the second week, Jinhwan clutching onto Junhoe’s shoulders tightly as their lips melded in a quiver of caresses that were soft and chaste.

Yunhyeong knew Junhoe was a lost cause, but he tried to be as supportive as he could, often covering up for Junhoe when he came home late after school.

On the third week, as he was waiting for Jinhwan at his usual place, outside the gates of the private school Jinhwan attended, Junhoe was about to discover just how vastly different their worlds were. He found himself waving in fascination at Jinhwan, whose hair was bounding up and down at every step he took on the tarmac driveway of the school, when the horn of a car stopped Jinhwan in his tracks.

A Bentley cruised to a stop beside Jinhwan. A boy, dressed in the same school uniform emerged from the back seat. He flashed a stony, unwelcome gaze in Junhoe’s direction while his lips moved seemingly whispering something at Jinhwan. Jinhwan had turned to the boy, his pretty face now limned with worry and disbelief. For the first time since he met Jinhwan, Junhoe saw bleakness pervade those translucent eyes when he turned back to look at him, even though Junhoe was not near enough to see into them up close.

Jinhwan had gotten into the Bentley, almost reluctantly and as the luxury car cruised by him, Junhoe had glanced at the passenger window, but Jinhwan was not looking his way. Not even a glance.

“Forget him.” Yunhyeong had urged. “I told you he was trouble but you are so fucking stubborn.” His best friend had added as he nursed the milkshakes they had gotten at the diner, a week after he last saw Jinhwan. His attempts to contact Jinhwan was often met with the phrase ‘Young master is unable to answer calls right now’ and Junhoe was at a loss, wondering if Jinhwan was being forced to stop seeing him.

The jukebox was playing ’Smoke Gets In Your Eyes’ when Jinhwan walked into the diner. Junhoe sat up and Yunhyeong followed his gaze. Jinhwan was smiling, but that smile was not flashed in Junhoe’s direction. It was aimed at the same boy who had pulled Jinhwan into the Bentley. He was dressed casually and he had an arm possessively around Jinhwan’s shoulders, that stony gaze laying heavy at the sight of Junhoe, who had been moping at the counter with his best friend. “Shit, we should get out of here, man.” Yunhyeong was exhaling now.

It was too late.

Everything was too late, of course. Jinhwan had sighted Junhoe as he was about to sit in the booth and had gotten back up. It was obvious that he wanted to leave, but his date was not having any of it, his hand locking around Jinhwan’s elbow a little too roughly. That was enough for Junhoe as he threw his straw onto the floor and took a draught of his milkshake straight from the tall metal cup. Yunhyeong could only watched helplessly, grabbing air, as Junhoe walked over to where Jinhwan was.

“No…Junhoe, stay back! I’m okay! Let me handle this!” Jinhwan had panicked, seeing Junhoe coming forward so speedily and the boy who had been with Jinhwan had turned expectantly, ready to fight. Junhoe landed the punch on his cheek even before the guy could complete his turn. He fell to the floor on the seat of his pants and Junhoe grabbed Jinhwan by the wrist, both of them running out of the diner, before anyone else could react.

The both of them had ran down the street, laughing in relief. They had ended up right where they had shared their first kiss. Junhoe running his fingers through Jinhwan’s peach tinted hair tenderly and over that delicate mole along the swell of that cheek, where he had embedded his heart as Jinhwan wiped the foam lining Junhoe’s upper lips.

“I’m glad I saved you.” Junhoe had panted breathlessly. Jinhwan tiptoed, cupping Junhoe’s chiselled jawline between his small hands.

“ _Pabo_. No one can save me, not even you.” Jinhwan whispered, tears gleaming in his eyes bleakly as he pursed his lips upwards to catch Junhoe’s steadily and with stalwart determination.

“Why are you crying?” Junhoe asked, when they finally sat down the stone seats overlooking the Peak. “Aren’t you happy that we are together now?” He continued foolishly as Jinhwan snuggled against his chest, sniffling back tears.

“Do you know who you punched today?” Jinhwan asked in a whispery sigh.

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Junhoe had answered, holding Jinhwan tighter.

“That was Kim Jiwon. His father and my father are business partners. His father is also a member of the Congress, a very powerful man in Jeju. He’s not someone you want to make an enemy of.” Jinhwan explained, sobbing slightly.

“I told you. I don’t care who he is. He hurt you. I protected you.” Junhoe declared petulantly, tucking his chin atop Jinhwan’s head, inhaling the scent he missed the past one week.

“Junhoe.” Jinhwan was saying now. “I’m…betrothed to him. We are to be married next week and then fly off to Switzerland to take care of our fathers’ business ventures overseas together.” Jinhwan added, tugging Junhoe’s collar desperately.

“No.” Junhoe refused to believe what he was hearing, holding tightly to Jinhwan, who struggled to get out of his embrace.

“It is not a joke, Junhoe!” Jinhwan yelled, pushing Junhoe away, crying wretchedly. “You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to get him to leave you and your family alone.”

“My family?” Junhoe muttered, gazing at Jinhwan incredulously.

“When I tell you his father is powerful, I mean it. They could make your family lose everything if they put their mind to it. Even mine, too.” Jinhwan added bleakly. The depths of despair in Jinhwan’s eyes told Junhoe he was speaking the truth.

“But you don’t love him!” Junhoe argued blindly, raking his fingers through his hair, realising the brevity of the situation.

“I don’t but this is not up to me to decide.” Jinhwan was crying profusely and Junhoe began pulling him into an embrace. Jinhwan started beating his chest in frustration but Junhoe held him anyway and after awhile Jinhwan remained still, losing all the energy to fight. “I didn’t count on meeting you and falling in love. But this is what it is. We cannot be together.” Jinhwan stated with finality when his tears finally subsided.

It was Junhoe’s turn to cry. He was still crying when the wedding pictures were published in the papers a week later. He cried even harder when he received the package at his home, addressed to him in that familiar cursive that was Jinhwan’s handwriting. He would have recognised it anywhere. 

Inside, was a lock of tangerine hair, a photo they had taken during one of their dates and all the letters he had ever written for Jinhwan.

‘ _I cannot bear the thought of being apart. Keep these, so that someday you may return them to me, the rightful owner_.’ Jinhwan had written on the note attached to the package.

The box, a broken heart and these sepia toned memories would become the only remnants Junhoe kept of his first love.


	2. The Unexpected Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For slightly more than ten years, Junhoe was unable to give up on the feelings he had for Jinhwan. His memories of Jinhwan remained fresh, so much so that it even began to permeate his life and, sadly, his dreams. A brief, but meaningful encounter was only shortlived as Junhoe grapples with the discovery that their meeting had been planned by a dubious mind and subsequently, by the loss of someone he loves. How does a broken heart survive a second heartbreak?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains: 
> 
> > Graphic scenes of the sexual nature ‼️🔞‼️
> 
> >> TW // A minor character death

**_Circa 1970 -1980, Seoul_ **

The place was truly a busy, bustling city. Junhoe never felt belonged in it, so used was he to Jeju’s rustic way of life. Yet, adapt he did. Right after graduation, he was offered a position as a junior reporter for a men’s society magazine. Yunhyeong had sent him off at the airport, crying as if he was losing his girlfriend or something.

“Ya~are you going to call me?!” Yunhyeong was asking and Junhoe had smiled sadly. He truly appreciated their friendship. Junhoe would never have made it through the past five years, juggling school and heartbreak if Yunhyeong had not been there with him.

“I’ll come back and visit you. Don’t be such a drama queen.” Junhoe hissed in annoyance, arms going around his childhood friend. It only made Yunhyeong cry even more.

Junhoe managed to hold back his tears until he was on his seat on the plane. Of course, there was only one reason for him leaving. Yunhyeong was probably the only person who knows this. Everyone else congratulated him for moving up in his life; a job in the city right after graduation, with lodgings provided. It seemed as if he was living the dream. To Junhoe, what he was really doing was running away. Away from the memories of losing Jinhwan that fateful autumn. Even after several years, it gnawed at him that the fates had decided to play such a cruel hand on his heart.

Everything he did, barely held meaning. Each corner, each turn on every street in Jeju reminded him of Jinhwan. The buses, buildings and stone benches. He really felt that the only way out was to leave.

Of course, he was wrong, for no matter where he went, his memories remained as fresh and evergreen. Sometimes, even when he was asleep, it felt as if he was reliving every dream with Jinhwan in his mind. Of the both of them touring around the world as a couple; holding hands, taking photos, kissing and there was a new dimension to this wistful desire; some that made him wake up in a cold sweat at night, because he saw glimpses of Jinhwan’s milky skin. A splice of Jinhwan’s thighs, small yet still supple between Junhoe’s own hands; that petite body, curved and angle in all the right places meant to fit against his. Junhoe was driven crazy for it.

During the day he worked tirelessly, making everyone wonder if he even had a life beyond work. His hard work and efforts propelled him forward in his career. By his fifth year, he made senior editor and in his tenth, he was promoted to the prestigious position of director for a publishing corporation. It was exalting, yet the void left by Jinhwan continues to pervade his existence.

It was during one of the many company events he attended that Junhoe realised that forgetting Jinhwan would never happen.

The party had begun in full swing, one of many he had attended this year alone. As always, it was held in a stately mansion belonging to one of the company’s many stakeholders. A masquerade party as always a good excuse, Junhoe personally thought, for the rich and mindless to indulge in banal pleasantries which would eventually lead to carnal exchanges. He walked in, grabbing a glass of champagne from a server. He had not bothered to come with a mask. It was not his first time in the jungle and while his looks often intrigued people, most of those who were present were already attuned to his charmless personality. There was even a nickname for him around the publishing circles; Eunuch Koo.

His dark eyes surveyed the crowd and he wondered how many oscillations he could make around the room before he excused himself. His gaze found the masked figure standing by the stately centrepiece of this grand hall. The centrepiece, a bronze statuary of an eagle in flight, was majestic but something about the figure itself was alluring and strangely familiar. If only he was not wearing the sequinned mask to cover his face, Junhoe thought as he walked closer towards the figure.

He could feel his heart thumping as he got nearer and it was when he was maybe six or five steps away that the figure walked away from him quite suddenly. Junhoe quickened his steps, following the masked figure as he weaved his way around the hall deftly. Junhoe almost knocked four drinks out of careless hands as he followed after this mysterious masked guest.

“Excuse me.” Junhoe heard himself say as he sidestepped a couple already lost in conversation, among other things; the man already had his hand up the slit of the lady’s dress. They barely looked his way and Junhoe thought one of them looked like an acquaintance from the head office in England. He saw a door opened just in time to see the masked figure disappearing into another room, closing the door behind him. He took a draught of the champagne in his hand, smoothly placing the empty flute glass onto the tray of a server who passed by him. Then he turned the handle of the door and with one last glance to the party, now bustling with the murmur of conversation, making sure no one was watching him, Junhoe entered into the silence of an empty room.

It was a study.

Not as grand as the hall but stately and homely all the same, furnished with teakwood, Persian carpets and huge armchairs. The walls were lined with bookcases from the floor to the ceiling with the exception of one wall, where a bricked fireplace had been built. A warm fire had been lit and was crackling warmly within the hearth.

The wall was obviously decorated with the specific purpose of displaying mounted trophies. Whoever owned the manor, had probably captured and slaughtered the endangered wildlife personally from the plains of Serengeti preserving them for posterity with a twisted sense of pride; the head of a lion with a full mane, an elephant with its tusk intact, an adult gazelle, its obsidian eyes gleaming as if it could still see. A shadow from the bookcase and Junhoe saw that it was the masked figure he himself had 'hunted' just moments ago from the grand hall.

He was standing, a hand holding on to the rung of the mounted wooden ladder attached to the bookcases. The mask hung loosely on the side of his body, a black velvet affair embossed with feathers and gold sequins at the bridge where the nose should be.

_Jinhwan_. 

It was Jinhwan standing before him, smiling. Ten years had passed, but that smile still held the enchantment Junhoe had drowned within since the first time he saw it on that fateful morning bus ride. He stumbled forward, tears causing his vision to turn blurry and he wiped at them in frustration, because the last thing he wanted, no, needed, was to lose sight of this mirage before him. Jinhwan had stepped slightly forward, alarmed by Junhoe’s reaction upon seeing him. Junhoe’s hands found that face; fingers touching flesh, over the effeminate shape of his jaw, over the cheek where his heart had been stamped indelibly on that beauty mark.

“Junhoe. It’s me. It’s really me.” Jinhwan whispered, gazing up in teary wonderment at the love of his life. Gone was the ambling teenager with the lanky gait dressed in faded sweats. Here before him, was a man who cut a fine figure in his Ferragamo suit, looking all suave and confident, except Junhoe was a teary mess at the moment, as if everything else had been a facade which Jinhwan had finally found and smashed through.

“Yes!” Junhoe declared hurriedly. “It’s you, it’s really you.” He stated urgently, as if trying to convince himself that Jinhwan was truly in front of him, no longer conjured by dreams and fantasies, but real and warm. Their lips fused in a mess of tongues, teeth and desires, which was now, all consuming and steadfast. At one point, Junhoe was not even sure if he was inhaling the air Jinhwan was exhaling or vice versa. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire and the deafening roar of their need for each other.

Junhoe had the vague recollection that Jinhwan had forcefully peeled his jacket off and he had done the same to the jacquard Chanel coat Jinhwan had on. They had stopped momentarily, gazing at each other in disbelief, then Junhoe plunged onward, ripping the buttons off the plain white shirt Jinhwan had worn below the jacket. Jinhwan gasped when Junhoe heaved him quite suddenly onto the first rung of the ladder, causing it to squeak against the rail it had been anchored to. Jinhwan laughed, fingers fumbling with the belt buckle Junhoe had on.

“There’s…there’s a stopper somewhere.” Jinhwan was whispering and Junhoe gazed at him, momentarily puzzled. “A stopper, to prevent the ladder from moving.” Jinhwan explained. Junhoe paused, long enough to glance at the foot of the ladder. Using the tip of his shoe, he latched the ladder so that it remained stationary and returned his attention to undressing Jinhwan. “I…can’t…believe…it’s you.” Jinhwan whispered, his words being expelled in ragged breaths. In the semi-darkness his small hands, the ones Junhoe used to hold so tightly more than ten years ago, roamed carelessly against the smooth expanse of Junhoe’s muscular back as Junhoe worked at pulling off Jinhwan’s pants.

They were gazing into each other’s eyes as Junhoe unsheathed his boxers. Even as his hands began to busily work their arousals together, Junhoe kept his gaze fixed on Jinhwan, who was whimpering and writhing in ecstasy, head thrown back against the upper rung, completely immersed within this bubble of stimulation wrapped around their bodies.

“Did you miss me? Did you think of me all these years?” Junhoe rasped, breathing heavily against that smooth graceful neck, so much like fine china against the velvet swell of his parted lips.

“Yes! Yes! I think…of you. Every day of the hour, thoughts of you fill me! It always feels as if I’m drowning and only you can save me. I…even…” Jinhwan had brought his head up, legs straddling Junhoe’s waist instinctively, eyes now brimming with the sudden onslaught of tears which had appeared with the deluge of emotions he was experiencing. “Junhoe, I even had dreams of you.” Jinhwan admitted passionately.

“And I, of you.” Junhoe responded with joyous satisfaction, spitting into the palm of his hand, enough to now coat the underside of Jinhwan’s derriere in preparation for the impending penetration. “I dreamt of you too.” He professed, easing himself into Jinhwan with excruciating slowness. “But never…never…” Jinhwan had listened quietly, heart soaring at this declaration. The knowledge that they had not been alone and delusional in keeping their love alive only served to heighten the desires they have held back all these years. Without warning, Jinhwan slid himself forward into Junhoe with unabated eagerness. “Wait…I…” Junhoe protested as he felt his heart swell into a massive ball of delirium and then he was groaning in pleasure, deeply entrenched inside Jinhwan, who moaned softly at this welcome intrusion.

It was a connection which went beyond the statute of physical limitations. In that lucid moment, as Junhoe began to thrust himself deep into Jinhwan, they both had unwittingly created a psyche in which, only their love for each other existed. It was intense, unbridled and would completely unravel the years which had kept them apart physically, fusing them into one penultimate soul until it felt as if nothing and no one, could ever stand between them.

_Not even the unfortunate circumstances of their ill-fated bond_.

Time stood in complete stillness as Junhoe committed his body and soul into Jinhwan, who in turn, clung to him just as desperately, acutely aware that while they could never be together, at least not in this world, they were prepared to embrace the truth. That they were made and meant for each other. Jinhwan's breath began to hitch, crying softly into Junhoe’s shoulder even as he began matching Junhoe's strokes. They fell gently into the unspoken and timeless rhythm which played to the tune of their desires; thrust for thrust, heartbeat to heartbeat. Moments later, their collective groans truncated the silence as both expelled their breaths in unison at the pinnacle of this soaring high.

They both froze in this warm embrace, suspended in the stillness, reluctant to return to the reality which they somehow knew, would never accept the unconditional properties of this forbidden love. 

After awhile, their teary gazes met and then they were crying in each other’s arms once again, because there was no longer any use for words. Not when the truth had dawned upon their hearts with finality.

They emerged from the study awhile later, melding back quietly to the party. Jinhwan had his mask on, fingers clutching the tip of Junhoe’s hand tightly.

“There you are.” A small, soft voice called out and a boy, probably no more than eight, stood in front of Jinhwan. “Papa, _ahbeoji_ is looking for you.” Junhoe, who had been standing behind Jinhwan, moved forward slightly, craning his neck to get a better look at the child. The party was in full swing, but the boy seem unperturbed, as if unimpressed and used to such ostentatious adult activities. He turned to look at Junhoe, eyes lighting keenly with interest. “Who is this?”

“Donghyukie, what are you doing here? You are supposed to be in your room.” Jinhwan was saying softly, arms going around the boy’s shoulder affectionately.

“I was.” He explained, his eyes still fixed on Junhoe as if committing details to his memory. Junhoe acknowledged his presence with a smile and a slight nod. “But _ahbeoji_ thought you were with me and when he found out you weren’t, he sought me to look for you. Are you not going introduce your friend to me?” The boy intoned, smiling good-naturedly at Junhoe, bowing respectfully. Jinhwan placed his mask down in resignation, but it was obvious from the smile on his lips that he was prone to indulging the boy. He turned, smiling with pride.

“Koo Junhoe, I am pleased to introduce to you, my only son, Kim Donghyuk.” Jinhwan nodded. The boy held out his hand and Junhoe took it. The firm grip surprised and impressed him as he shook the boy's hand.

“What a pleasure to meet you, young master Kim. I can see you inherited your father’s pleasant countenance and good manners.”Junhoe declared with sincerity.

“The pleasure is all mine, sir. Are you an old friend of Papa?” He inquired, obviously curious.

“Donghyukie.” Jinhwan interjected. The boy tore his gaze away from Junhoe to look at his father with affection, his dimpled smile, both brilliant and winsome.

“Yes, Papa?”

“Are you supposed to be here?” Jinhwan reminded and that seem to snap him out of his senses. He suddenly blushed crimson and with his eyes now downcast, his head bowed, he frowned.

“Sorry, Papa.”

“Let’s go meet _Ahbeoji_ , okay?” Jinhwan said, patting those shoulders in reassurance. Jinhwan turned to glance at Junhoe. “Wait for me at the entrance of the manor. I will be there after I handle this.” Jinhwan whispered and Junhoe nodded in acknowledgement.

He had barely reached the entrance when someone called out his name. It was one of his acquaintances in the publishing circle. An editor he used to work with when he first came to Seoul. They shook hands and Junhoe glanced nervously out of the french windows which marked the entrance doors, hoping he would not keep Jinhwan waiting. The ex-colleague was congratulating him on his recent promotion.

“So did you finally get to meet Chairman Kim?” The acquaintance asked. Junhoe blinked.

“Who?” He inquired.

“Why, the director of the publishing corporation you’re working in and our host for tonight, of course!” The acquaintance chuckled good-naturedly. “He was the one who asked my dad to offer you that junior position at his company. He said you were an old friend of his husband!” The man added. Suddenly, Junhoe became acutely aware that for the last ten years, everything he had worked hard for had become nothing, but a lie.

“What was his name again?” Junhoe heard his voice coming from a faraway place, even though he already knew who it was exactly.

“Director Kim Jiwon. He had strongly suggested that you were given the opportunity. My dad knew his late father, the politician very well, so he did it as a favour. Didn’t you know?” The man was starting to sound condescending. “It’s amazing what connections can do, huh?” He added, rubbing salt to the wound that was still fresh and new. Junhoe managed a discomfited smile and decided immediately that he did not want to be there anymore. 

“Well, I must be going now. It was nice to catch up with you.” Junhoe heard himself say. He only wished Jinhwan was there, so he could embrace him for the last time and leave for good. 

He left the manor in a daze, flagging a cab to take him back to his apartment, pouring himself a glass of whisky to calm his nerves as he loosened his tie. His hands shook in anger as he downed the drink in one shot. A telegram was waiting for him when he reached home, it had arrived from Jeju 

‘Come home _dongsaeng_. Urgent.’

It could only be from Yunhyeong.

Junhoe packed his belongings, stopping by the office to hand in his resignation, before flying off to Jeju before the sun came up. Even in all his years of pining for the love he lost, Junhoe was grateful that he had Yunhyeong’s friendship. Their brotherhood had survived through the rough weathers of time. When Junhoe lost his parents, when Yunhyeong got married, when Junhoe moved to Seoul and when Yunhyeong’s wife passed away while giving birth to his only son. They had both survived each storm, because they had each other’s friendship to hold onto.

This morning, as he arrived in Jeju and then got a cab which immediately brought him to the hospital, Junhoe’s despair, already overwhelmed by the discovery that Jinhwan’s rogue of a husband had manipulated his career, seem to manifest increasingly towards a bleak resolution; losing the only friend he loved so much like a brother.

“Junhoe.” Yunhyeong called out his name weakly from the bed. A boy, probably no more than five sat by his bed, his face dark with a sadness he had yet to comprehend.

“ _Hyung_.” Junhoe intoned, putting his luggage aside and then grasping the hand held out in his direction,. Junhoe turned to gaze at the boy. “Is this…Chanwoo?” He asked, lips breaking into a smile as he ruffled the boy’s hair. The boy managed a small shy smile. “I’m pretty sure I brought you a gift somewhere in my bag.” Junhoe intoned and those eyes lighted keenly with anticipation as this tall, handsome man walked over to his luggage, unlatching the locks. He pulled out a train set made of wood and gave this to the boy.

“Say thank you to _Samcheon_ , Chanwoo-ya.” Yunhyeong urged, panting slightly although the smile on his lips were filled with pride.

“Thank you, _Samcheon_.” He muttered and Junhoe nodded.

“Now, if I’m not mistaken, there was a small table just outside of the ward where you can unwrap that. Why don’t you let me take over for now, huh?” Junhoe assured him and the boy nodded, the dimples of his smiles lighted his young face. He glanced at his father who nodded and left the room with steps that would break into a run at any moment.

“I’m sorry to call you back like this.” Yunhyeong sighed. He looked gaunt, his cheeks hollowed out from all the weight he had lost. He knew about Yunhyeong’s condition for the past three years, had anticipated that things were only going to get worse. He had not expected it to happen at the same time he was going through his second heartbreak.

“ _Hyung_ , I promised you.” Junhoe reminded Yunhyeong, holding onto his hand gently, the tears smarting his eyes at the thought that he would have to bury his own best friend soon.

“I’m worried about Chanwoo. I…I took the liberty of…transferring the guardianship to your name. You just…” Yunhyeong coughed profusely, pointing weakly to the drawer on his bedside table. Junhoe nodded, immediately taking the papers out and gesturing for Yunhyeong to stop talking. “I understand if you can’t do it, Junhoe. But I’d want him to be with…family. And you’re the only family I have…” Yunhyeong's voice petered out thinly. 

“ _Hyung_ …I am honoured that you have faith…enough to believe in me.” Junhoe stated tearfully, biting his lips and trying to keep his voice steady. “I will raise him like my own.” Junhoe promised, signing the documents in the drawer with haste, knowing it was the only thing that would set Yunhyeong's mind at peace.

A week later, Junhoe collected the urn filled with Yunhyeong’s ashes and placed them in the columbarium’s locker, with Chanwoo by his side. The boy was sensible, cried only once when they were setting up the offering for the funeral services.

“Is he in heaven?” Chanwoo had asked. Junhoe put his arms around the boy’s shoulder, stifling back tears and nodding.

“Of course. I know no one who deserves a place there better than your _Ahbeoji_.” Junhoe declared. They were going down the steps of the columbarium, towards the parking lot when a Bentley cruised to a stop in front of them. Junhoe held Chanwoo’s hand in his, sighing with relief when he saw Jinhwan emerging from the back seat.

“I’m sorry.” Jinhwan muttered, unsheathing the shades he had on. “I just heard.”

Junhoe gazed at Chanwoo as he hunkered over the pond feeding fishes as they both found a place to talk in the columbarium’s stone garden.

“I thought you knew.” Junhoe commented after explaining to Jinhwan what had happened that night at the party. Jinhwan gripped Junhoe's hands with his own over the round granite table.

“I really didn’t and I’m thankful you left early that night.” Jinhwan had said after listening to Junhoe's explanation. “He was so excited to introduce me to someone at the party and when he couldn’t find you…” Jinhwan’s gaze fell on Junhoe miserably, “I’m just glad you left, because he was ready to goad, I just know it from the way he was behaving that night. I had made my own investigations, because I myself was wondering what you were doing at my house that night. He has made my life so miserable after the marriage. The two years we spent in Switzerland after marriage and then coming back to Korea, he never made me forget how you hit him. Even after I agreed to adopt Donghyuk, to make peace with him, he was still sore.”

“If I had known he still held a grudge towards me for that punch, I wouldn’t have hit him.” Junhoe sighed. ”I really wanted to tell you, but I received the telegram that same night and…” Junhoe started.

“You owe me no explanations. None at all.” Jinhwan interrupted him with such conviction that he was silenced.

“Come with me.” Junhoe intoned now, both his hands had grabbed onto Jinhwan’s, enveloping them with warmth and security. Jinhwan gazed at him wordlessly, blinking because it was definitely what his heart wanted and he had not expected Junhoe to suddenly say it aloud.

“Junhoe…” Jinhwan began.

“Leave him and come with me. I’m taking Chanwoo and flying as far away as I can from this country.” Junhoe announced.

“Where?” Jinhwan inquired.

“Where he can never touch you and me, ever again.” Junhoe promised. Jinhwan gazed at Junhoe, fingers caressing that jawline tenderly.

“I…I can’t.” Jinhwan suddenly said, withdrawing his hands away from Junhoe. His smile had disappeared.

“Why not?” Junhoe pleaded.

“Donghyuk needs me.” Jinhwan whispered, eyes beginning to fill with tears. How was he to explain that what had started out as an agreement to make the marriage work, despite Jiwon's hurtful and snide remarks, by adopting a child, Jinhwan had loved Donghyuk as his own? Would Junhoe even understand how he cared for the boy since he was a toddler and watched him grow up as handsome and smart as he is now, despite having a father figure who was barely there?

“We’ll take him with us! Chanwoo needs a brother. We’ll be a proper family.” Junhoe exclaimed in excitement, gazing at Chanwoo, who was smiling, as he fed at the fishes. He sighted Junhoe looking at him and waved. Junhoe waved back.

“I…I can’t.” Jinhwan was crying openly now. “We both...adopted him officially.” He added, “If I try to leave, he will fight for custody. I just know it. He would do it to spite me and I wouldn’t put it past him to try and manipulate the courts to win in his favour. I can’t possibly leave Donghyuk with him. He doesn't even treat him like a son. I’m sorry, Junhoe. I just, can’t.” Jinhwan was standing up now, raking his hair back in frustration, realising the brevity of the situation. Junhoe stood up, collecting Jinhwan into his arms tightly.

That Jinhwan flew here, to send his condolences for Yunhyeong’s passing despite everything, told Junhoe what he already needed to know.

“I understand.” Junhoe assured him gently. “I’ve only become a father for a week, but I know exactly how you feel. Please, don’t cry, Jinhwanie.” Junhoe called him by the nickname he had given Jinhwan back during the days when they were teenagers and had dated. Their hearts were being broken once more, but this time it was for a worthy cause.

They stayed in each other’s embrace for as long as they could, committing every moment they shared, as brief as it was, into their memory. It was crazy that they were reunited momentarily, after more than ten long years’, only to find that their love for each other had thrived and had even ignited a passion they never knew could possibly exist. Junhoe already knew in his heart that there would not be another for him, not in this lifetime, unless it is Jinhwan and Jinhwan was resigned to the fact that his heart was only capable of loving Junhoe and no one else.

As they bade farewell to each other, both were convinced that it would be the last time they would see one another.

In that, they were both, absolutely wrong.


	3. The Heart Which Knows Its Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The years seem to traverse slowly while Junhoe and Jinhwan watched as their sons grow up, each finding their place in the wheels of destiny. Through the years and in the many miles they were apart, their love remained steadfast, true and ever wistful for that seemingly impossible reunion.

**_1980-1990s, Seoul/Paris/Jeju_ **

He laid down at the bottom of the stairs in the darkness, hands shaking, trying to stop himself from crying. He knew he had to remain strong, if not for himself, at least for the child he had promised to protect. He laid there and in the silence, he heard the footsteps of the child padding down the stairs.

“No.” He commanded, his body wracked with pain.”Don’t come down here. It’s a mess. You don’t want to.” He added urgently, stifling back a sob, which narrowly escaped his lips. “Go back up and go to sleep. It will be okay in the morning, I promise you.” He whispered, letting the tears just trickle stolidly down the side of his eyes, wetting the Persian carpet.

He was definitely a good child. A child who listens and he sighed a little in releif when he heard the boy retreat. A child, who would be an adult in a few more years and yet was forced to grow up at the age of fifteen by a domineering father. A child who should not have to bear listening to the sounds of his parent being abused by the other, in a house where sounds reverberated and echoed like a love from an unforgettable past.

_Go child, back into the safety of your room and perhaps, the warmth of your blanket_ , he thought. That thought alone, helped him regain his senses. From the distance, he could already hear the sound of the sirens coming closer towards him. One fo the servants had run in horrified at the sounds and it was her screams which had woken the household up. He had managed to get her to calm down and call for help.

Jinhwan realised he needed to get himself together if he was going to survive this. He forced himself to get up, but nothing was stirring, not his body nor the figure lying prone beside him. He closed his eyes then forced them open to glance at his side. He was glad that all he could see was the back of the head and a pool of blood around it. Then, he closed his eyes again.

His mind returned to Jeju, the stone benches where he had his first kiss with the first man he ever loved.

_The only man he promised to love._

He wondered where Junhoe could be now. If he was safe, happy and at peace with his life. He prayed that it would be as he imagined. He found comfort in that thought. Just believing that the man he love was happy somewhere in the world, was enough to get him through this. His tears continued flowing and his hands moved to wipe them only causing him to wince, because he could feel the soreness where his lips were cut when Jiwon punched him just a few moments ago. It told him that at least, unlike Jiwon, he was still alive.

Jiwon had found the letters Junhoe had sent him over the years, but the damage had been done even from the moment Jinhwan married him. The abuse, which had only progressed from verbal to the physical just months after the last time he had that wonderful encounter in the study with Junhoe, would last longer than any sane mind could tolerate. He had never replied to Junhoe. To do so would be to give both him and Junhoe hope. Hope, which neither of them could afford. Jinhwan had lived with what he was given; absorbing all the pain and the hurt to the point that he learnt to become immune to it.

Until Jiwon discovered the letters and threw it into the fireplace, where each burned just like the tears stinging his eyes. The punch came later as Jinhwan tried to walk away, helming back the fury stoked in his heart, trudging up the stairs, meaning to make it into their room where their voices would not be heard by the servants and most especially, by their son. Jinhwan, who had never feltanger before as he did then, had spun around quite suddenly and Jiwon, who was pulling on his arm forcefully, had been caught by surprise at this instinctive retaliation, had pulled at him in panic. They had both fallen, tumbling down the stairs, landing with a thud just by the same statuary where Jinhwan had once stood when he had sighted Junhoe in the room, five years ago.

Ironically, it would be the last time Jiwon hurt him. And thereafter, Jinhwan only lived with the hurt, knowing he would never be whole once again.

~~~~~

He thought of Jinhwan mostly at night, when Chanwoo was asleep after a day of his activities in school and night descended upon the city filled with lights. The lights were reminiscent of Jinhwan’s smile; brilliant bursts of fairy lights, demarcating a landscape so distinctive; the silhouette of Eiffel’s iconic tower dressed in a multitude of shimmering gold. Chanwoo had a tough time adjusting to the changes but Junhoe persevered and after many months of struggle, they both have adapted to each other and the life they made for themselves in Paris.

His letters to Seoul remained unanswered and he wondered if Jinhwan was doing fine. When the nights got way too long, he would go through the letters he had given Jinhwan when they were in Jeju, reading through them with the same feelings he had back then. It validated the love he held in his heart like an everlasting torch, burning through the decade they were apart. Nights when his memory flitted back to the dimness of the study when he had made love to Jinhwan against the ladder of his bookcase. They remained lucid and detailed; the fair, milk-white skin of Jinhwan’s thighs gripping his hips, bucking roughly as Junhoe emptied himself into him to make their love complete. He wondered if Jinhwan ever looked at the study the same way or had things moved on to the point that Jinhwan would rather forget.

“ _Appa_?” Chanwoo trudged out from his room. He would be twelve soon; independent and resilient like his birth father. Brilliant of mind, but a little broody like his adopted one.

“Why?” Junhoe had asked, quickly moving away from the wall window where he had been looking out from, nursing a shot of whisky he had yet to drink. He placed his drink down and knelt by the boy who was rubbing his eyes sleepily. “Was it a bad dream?” Junhoe asked, patting his head gently. He shook his head.

“It’s cold.” He mulled. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” The boy asked. Yunhyeong had raised him well after his mother’s death. He had learnt to appreciate family because he barely had none and whatever he had, he was always concerned for them and displaying his affections in a staid, sensible manner.

“I was about to sleep.” Junhoe lied, standing up and leading him back to bed. “Come on, let me tuck you in properly.” He urged softly. “Tell me, what did you dream about?” He asked, to distract the boy.

“Jeju.” Chanwoo whispered hoarsely as he swung his long legs onto the bed and watched as Junhoe pulled up the thick warm blankets over it, tucking him nice and snug to cover his whole body. Junhoe stilled in the act of kissing the boy’s forehead.

“You remember Jeju?” Junhoe asked, in surprise. The boy had taken to Paris like fish to water, even learnt French faster than him. The only remnants of his childhood in Jeju were wedding photos of his birth parents and the graduation pictures of him and Yunhyeong, both of which Junhoe had placed on the display table in the living room. They also made offerings to Yunhyeong on the anniversary of his death every year, without fail. Junhoe always made sure that Chanwoo never forgot who his biological parents were. Chanwoo yawned, gazing at Junhoe with eyes that were slowly drifting shut. 

“Yes. I remember feeding the fishes in the pond and meeting your friend with the peach coloured hair.” He mused. “It was a pretty colour.” Chanwoo drawled and awhile later he was snoring softly. Junhoe walked out of his son’s room, brows furrowed in concern as he reclaimed back the shot glass still filled with his whisky.

~~~~~

Donghyuk strutted past the quadrangle in a hurry, knowing that he was late for his lecture. Of course, he was thankful that he would be able to start his varsity studies despite the delay in his admissions. He knew he was a few years behind, but he had written in to explain the situation and thankfully the university had accepted his request for postponing his enrollment, backed by the appropriate letters, of course. Yet, he felt lucky that he could finally continue his studies proper, praying that things would go smoothly and as planned.

He had barely had reached the corridor leading to the lecture hall when he felt the vibrations of the pager in his pocket. He stopped, groaning inwardly, lips pursing to hold back the curse word which had threatened to escape his lips. He glanced at the number reflected there. There can only be one. He spied the booth just outside the corridor and rushed hurriedly towards it.

“Yes, is everything alright?” He sighed into the receiver at the sound of Mameu’s voice in distress. “Yea, I’ll be there right away.” Donghyuk whispered softly, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes. He was so distraught that he barely even looked up as he walked out of the booth promptly knocking into a wall. Well, not a wall, but a person.

“Whoa! Easy there.” The voice, deep and filled with the abruptness of surprise, seem to come from somewhere far away. “Hey, are you alright?” The person in question was asking in concern, perhaps seeing the tears already trailing down his cheeks.

“Yeah…” Donghyuk’s voice broke. “No…” Arms, long and somewhat comforting were suddenly embracing him and Donghyuk, who had suffered all these years in a silence that had been left unsaid for one too many times, accepted it, breaking down softly against the stalwart chest now offered to him by a complete stranger. How long did he cry? He only knew two things; that he would not be able to attend the first lecture and that he was late returning home after promising Mameu that he would be home right away. “I’m sorry.” He managed after those long moments, sniffling into the handkerchief that had been offered to him, feeling absolutely husked. “This is so not like me.” He was blushing, of course, because whoever he had knocked into was practically a stranger and he had further made it worst by crying in his arms. He glanced up and the face gazing down at him in concern was definitely raffish and princely; handsome, without all the overbearing traits of being too proud of it. It was such a relief to see it, for some reason.

“We all have our days and this is yours.” He said, that deep voice, completely soothing and filled with an understanding Donghyuk found somewhat comforting.

“Well, here,” Donghyuk said passing him back the handkerchief, “I’ve got to go I guess.” He shook his head.

“Keep it, just in case.” He insisted with a smile. Donghyuk thought the dimples allayed that raffishness in his features and added a twinkle to those dark round eyes. “Aren’t you going to the business lecture? I’m headed there too.” He stated amicably, pointing to Donghyuk’s file, which like his, were in the lime green colours of the Business Management block. Donghyuk managed a sad smile and shook his head.

“I…I can’t…” He whispered looking down at the road which would led him back down the university’s entrance and the route back home. “Something came up at home and I have to go.” He explained, not realising that his voice was going softer as he spoke.

“Ah…that’s ok then. I’ll just save up today’s notes and pass them to you when you come back for tomorrow’s lecture.” The boy declared cheerfully as he stood up. He was definitely younger maybe by a few years, but he was so tall, he towered over Donghyuk quite impressively. “If they ask us to pair up, you’re gonna get stuck with me, though.” He added now, those dimples going deeper into his cheeks, in a teasing manner which made Donghyuk laughed quite spontaneously.

“ _Arasseo_.” Donghyuk nodded in agreement, smile going wider, forgetting all about being upset just minutes ago. “I’m Kim Donghyuk.” He stated, holding out his hand. His warm hand, large and absolutely smooth, engulfed Donghyuk’s tiny offering warmly.

“Koo Chanwoo.” He introduced himself eagerly. Donghyuk nodded, waving farewell, glancing back as he walked forward, suddenly feeling as if the world had not closing in on him as he initially thought it would, since he came to Jeju with his father, almost a month ago.

~~~~~

“So…how was the first day of school?” Junhoe asked over the line. He had wondered where the time had gone and now Chanwoo was back in Jeju, attending university. Junhoe glanced into the mirror just above the mantel of the fireplace; his hair was now streaked with silver, the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes more prominent.

“It was exciting.” Chanwoo declared and the excitement in his voice spilled over into the receiver. “Isn’t it too early to be awake over there?” The boy teased him and Junhoe chuckled.

“I guess I am as excited as you are.” Junhoe teased him right back.

“I miss you though. You should join me soon. Everything’s changed so much. You would love it.” Chanwoo told him and Junhoe could sense that sadness in him. They were never apart for this long and they both had no remaining relatives on the island.

“I miss you too. I’ll join you, as soon as I’ve settled everything here. I promise.” Junhoe had intoned. “You should make friends. I was already in love when I was younger than you are now.” Junhoe told him, suddenly invoking that memory of Jinhwan bounding up the bus, trailing after the sunbeams as if he had been created from it, that summer when he returned back to school. 

“I did meet someone interesting this afternoon.” Chanwoo laughed, it was a rumble, his laughter and Junhoe thought the sound of it was always more than enough to convince people that Chanwoo is biologically his.

“Oh, you did? Tell me about it.” He urged, curious. Chanwoo was not that good at making friends. Something which had worried him. He kept mostly to himself and very rarely had friends whom he were closed to even when he was very, very young.

“Not now. I want you to go back to sleep. I need to sleep, too.” Chanwoo rebuked now, almost jokingly. “It might be the first day, but I’ve already got a few assignments all lined up and ready to be completed for the semester.” Chanwoo groaned in complaint.

“Well, I wasn’t the one who wanted you to attend Jeju University. Montmarte would have been just as fine.” Junhoe teased.

“Yeah, you would have wanted me to be so close to you.” Chanwoo joked right back. “ _Paili_ , come back here. I have so many things to tell you.” He urged. Junhoe laughed again.

“Ya~I’m paying for your studies already and now I’m paying for this call. Go get your sleep, we’ll talk again soon.” Junhoe feigned in a strict tone. They said their goodbyes and Junhoe found that he could no longer fall back to sleep. Not when the sun was peeping out between the slats of the Tower against the azure dawn sky.

Jeju. He missed much of Jeju. The sunrise, the sunset and Jinhwan’s peach-toned hair. He wondered, not for the first time in almost twenty years, if Jinhwan was still alive.

~~~~~

Chanwoo waited by the steps of the huge manor in dire need of repairs. The driveway, which had once been paved were now littered with pebbles and dried leaves from the foliage surrounding it. It looked particularly haunted at night but in the morning light, it was just dreary and gloomy, the paint peeling off the Victorian columns which led to the marbled patio that had probably once shone like a diamond. Now, it was faded to a dull, muddy green and only littered with a blanket of dried, crusty leaves.

An _ahjumma_ had opened the door and gazed at him in disdain asking him to state his business. He had introduced himself and had barely finished when he could hear shouting from down the dim hallway. The lady, dressed in a flowery dress which held her rotund figure well had turned back and replied a hoarse return.

“That would be the old coot clamouring for his tea. You wait here, young ‘un. Donghyuk will be here shortly, if he can ever get around to saying goodbye to that grumpy fart.” She was prattling now. The resounding crash of something metallic made her invoke Jesus’s name and then she had ambled back into the darkness leaving Chanwoo standing by the doorway, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, because he did not know what he was supposed to do.

Donghyuk came out moments later, slightly out of breath, but looking as if he had emerged from the sun itself, bringing along its essence and shine.

“Hey, I’m sorry about that.” More shouts resonated as he closed the door behind him. The bickering sounds coming from a man and a woman, Chanwoo recognised the latter. It was the lady, Mameu, who had opened the door for him. Donghyuk had told him she was his father's nurse. 

“Is it always like this?” Chanwoo asked in amusement as they walked down the steps. Donghyuk was consciously running his hands into his honey blond hair, blushing profusely in embarrassment.

“It's just that my Papa..." Donghyuk trailed off in uncertainty. "His health has not been so good for a number of years now.” He added, the faraway look in his eyes seem to be filled with a memory that was painful and sad. Chanwoo placed a hand behind his back, patting him gently and Donghyuk shook his head quickly, as if brushing off the heavy thoughts in his mind and then smiled.

"Well, you're a good son for making sure he's well looked after and juggling studies, all at the same time.” Chanwoo commented, stopping quite suddenly and kneeling. Donghyuk blinked at him, gazing downward as Chanwoo reached over to help him tie the laces of his Converse.

“You…you don’t have to do that, Chanu-ya.” Donghyuk stuttered, feeling absolutely embarrassed by this gesture. It had been almost three months since Donghyuk cried into Chanwoo’s chest. He was the first real friend Donghyuk had since he came to Jeju and probably the only one he ever had.

“I want to.” Chanwoo stated, standing up and gazing down at Donghyuk, whose cheeks were now flushed red. Chanwoo had clasped his hand over one of Donghyuk’s tightly, fingers melding. Well, they were definitely more than friends now.

“I’m actually looking for a buyer so we can get a smaller place. But, really who wants to get a place that looks like this.” Donghyuk commented, walking closer so that his arm was now half wrapped around Chanwoo’s. They were walking out of the rusty iron gates of the entrance, towards the bus stop just about a few minutes away from this neighbourhood that had once housed the rich families in Jeju.

“Well, it kinda has its own charms.” Chanwoo commented glancing back at the place. “It must have looked resplendent once.” He added as they walked briskly together to the bus stop. Donghyuk had remained silent though and Chanwoo knew exactly what was on his mind. Chanwoo knew that Donghyuk’s father had passed away under hushed circumstances and that his surviving parent had been traumatised by the event, but since Donghyuk was hesitant to talk about it, Chanwoo felt it was not his place to ask for more details. He loved Donghyuk and any secret he wanted to share, well, he had all the time in the world to decide if he wanted to do so. “You need to stop being so nervous about this.” Chanwoo added.

“But what if he doesn’t like me?” Donghyuk cried into the plump of Chanwoo’s bicep, clinging desperately.

“Then, we’ll elope.” Chanwoo suggested and laughed. Donghyuk shook his arm violently in protest. “I’m joking.” Chanwoo laughed once more as they reached the bus stop. “Listen,” Chanwoo became solemn, cupping Donghyuk’s cheeks between his hands tenderly and swooping down for a chaste kiss. “He’ll love you. I just know it.”

“How do you know?” Donghyuk was asking miserably, pouting.

“Because I love you. So he has to love you too.” Chanwoo intoned with conviction. The bus came and they both boarded it, clasping each other’s hands tightly, in anxiety fused with excitement.

Chanwoo was especially stoked to introduce Donghyuk to his father. He had told his father about his friend during their weekly calls and having them meet was truly something absolutely special for him. He had even booked a table at The Peak, a famous restaurant, which had a wonderful view of the mountain on a clear day. Half an hour later, they were at their destination and the waiter was leading them to the table where his father had already sat waiting for them. His gaze was transfixed at the spectacular view outside that for awhile, he barely heard his son calling out to him. He turned, as Chanwoo patted him gently on the shoulder, smiling and standing up expectantly, to meet the friend Chanwoo was obviously head over heels in love with. Chanwoo had stepped aside and his father’s smile disappeared immediately at the sight of Donghyuk.

~~~~~

“Papa?” Donghyuk called his father softly. He had fallen asleep on his chair, always placed by the window, so he could look out of the driveway.

The view was not much, but he could definitely see the bus stop at the main road. The same window he used to looked out in memory of that boy who had approached and asked for his number when he had to take the bus briefly as a teenager. That fateful meeting so many years ago remained fresh even as he slept now.

Of long walks up the peak of Mount Jeju, sitting so close at the stone benches as they watched the sun set.

Of dates at the drugstore, always two egg cremes and maybe a third one, which they shared if they wanted to splurge.

Of walking back slowly to the bus stop after school and getting cheap noodles by the roadside stall because he did not want Jinhwan to spend a single cent on him.

Jinhwan stirred. It was Donghyuk.

He had squinted through the windows when Donghyuk had walked out, holding hands with his tall friend. He had been fussing Mameu for his morning tea, hollering loudly about how stuffy it was and that the fan was not doing its job and the old lady had grumbled at him as she always did. He had managed a small smile at the sight of his son with his boyfriend. Young love was beautiful and should remain so, he had thought as he slowly dozed off, thinking of Junhoe.

“Umm?” He hummed under his breath, feeling the chair being wheeled away from his favourite spot. “Is my tea ready, Donghyuk-ya?” He mustered, slowly filtering back into reality. Donghyuk was pushing him out of the bedroom and into the drawing room where he hated, because there was way too much sunlight in it. “Ya imma, where are you bringing me?” He heard his voice rise indignantly.

“Guests, Papa.” Donghyuk whispered and his voice was heavy with emotion, the way it got when he had been crying too much. “We have…guests.” The boy managed to complete the sentence as if he had been holding a sob. Jinhwan craned his head to look at that handsome face and sure enough, those eyes were swollen from crying and Jinhwan wondered who had hurt him. He glanced back to the drawing room and muffled a cry at the sight of the two men standing expectantly, as if they had been waiting for him.

“No, Donghyuk…push me back! He must not see me like this!” Jinhwan started to cry in panic, he began to squirm in his chair, trying to twist his body around, tears beginning to fill and slowly fall from his eyes. “No…Donghyuk…no!” He yelled in misery.

“Jinhwanie.” And all it took to silence the clamour in Jinhwan’s heart was just that. That voice invoking the term of endearment coming from those very lips. Junhoe’s voice; deep, strong and ageless seem to come from nowhere but it filled every part of him that had turned into a void to make him whole again. Jinhwan exhaled, sitting back on his wheelchair which had caged him for almost ten years, his eyes now veiled by tears could only find Junhoe who was kneeling in front of him, clasping Jinhwan’s hands tightly on the knees which had been rendered useless that autumn night when both Jiwon and him had fell down the stairs. “I came to return these to you.” Junhoe stated, placing him a beribboned box slowly on his lap.

“Junhoe.” He whispered, fingers trembling as he untied the box and uncovered it. All the letters he had passed to Junhoe before he was forced to marry Jiwon remained intact all these years. While he had returned them to Junhoe, he remember the contents worded in every letter; each poem, sonnet and lines filled with declarations of an undying love, which he thought would remain as they had been.

_Nothing but a wistful dream_.

“Since they are now back in the hands of their owner, I beg of you,” Junhoe was stating now, voice thick with emotion, palms clasped together, “Either release me from this spel,l or accept the love I have held so high in my heart all these years. I cannot bear to live another ten years, pining in misery, for you.” He admitted. Jinhwan stifled the sob which had suddenly threatened to escape between his lips.

“Oh…Junhoe!” He cried as those arms wrapped around him once more, as if Junhoe had never left.As if the past which had been frozen to a standstill had somehow melted and sped forward to bring them into this moment; this realisation that no matter how long they were apart, they were ultimately meant to be as one.

~~~~~

Both Chanwoo and Donghyuk watched as their parents’ circle the tiled garden across the driveway quietly, eyes still fresh from crying over this touching, tear inducing reunion of two lost souls. Donghyuk turned to Chanwoo.

“Doesn’t this complicate matters a little?” He asked with curiosity in his bright eyes as he gazed at Chanwoo. Mameu stood by the doorway wiping her tears with her apron and shaking her head, probably marvelling at the fact that the old coot she had been looking after for the last five years, was actually capable of smiling and laughing.

“How so?” Chanwoo asked, returning that gaze with furrowed brows, arms folded in a questioning manner.

“Well, the both of them are our parents? And they probably have a right to each other more than we do to ourselves. Doesn’t that sort of make us brothers?” Donghyuk stated quite obviously.

“Do you feel that it’s weird now?” Chanwoo asked, gazing at Donghyuk with the kind of fond amusement the latter was familiar with. Donghyuk shook his head adamantly.

“Not really. We are both not their biological offsprings. Plus I’m already in love with you. Should I stop now?” Donghyuk teased as Chanwoo’s arms encircled him from the back.

“I was waiting for you to say that.” Chanwoo intoned as Donghyuk turned and craned his neck upwards, so that Chanwoo’s lips could meet his.

~~~~~

“Our boys are in love with each other.” Junhoe stated as he stopped the chair by the pond which had dried up and seen better days. He brushed the dried twigs and leaves blanketing the granite bench by the pond and sat down with a sigh. Jinhwan was still gazing at him, the smile across his lips still shone with the brightness of the sun despite the passing of time.

“Well, if that isn’t destiny then I don’t know what is!” Jinhwan muttered with a laugh. Junhoe nodded in agreement. “You’ve grown older.” Jinhwan remarked, taking in the silver hair, still coiffed the way it had been that fateful night in the study. Yet, it was still the dashing and suave Junhoe, in a navy blue jersey sweater and beige slacks.

“And you still look the same.” Junhoe ventured, one of his hands cupping Jinhwan’s hand tightly. Jinhwan gripped it tightly, wiping his tears with his free hand.

“Even my hair?” Jinhwan inquired and Junhoe barked that laughter which used to visit him only in dreams. It was a good sound to hear, filled with the promise of happiness and cheer. The peach tones had long faded and had turned almost a golden cornsilk. It was still a full head of hair though, barely even thinning. There were worry lines, but they now seem to crease only because of all the smiling Jinhwan was doing now.

Not that Jinhwan never thought of meeting Junhoe after Jiwon’s unfortunate death. Jinhwan had spent most of the years after the incident in both physical and mental therapy. All he had faced with a daunting prospect, the latter even worst because he had blamed himself for Jiwon’s death. That, with the added stress of now being crippled from the waist down, while he was raising a growing teenager, had caused Jinhwan to fall deeply into a depression from which he had been convinced he would never recover from.

Between his father’s meltdowns and the costs of his therapies, their family fortunes had slowly declined and as a result, Donghyuk had been forced to sell off his inheritance and they shifted back to Jeju, in the hopes that he could continue his studies whilst looking after his father. Mameu, who had been their townhouse servant, had decided to stay on at the young master’s request. She knew the boy had no one else in the world and his father, tyrant as he was after the accident, would need someone to look after his needs as the boy pursued his studies.

Jinhwan knew he was failing as a father. He was bitter most days, prone to throwing fits; either from bearing the guilt of his husband’s death, or from the fact that he could no longer function as a normal human being, having to depend on his carers. He had not made it easy for Donghyuk. Coming back to Jeju had made it worst, because he was reminded of Junhoe every time he glanced out of the window from his room and sees a bus cruising past the stop.

Jinhwan started crying again and Junhoe quickly stood up, kneeling once again in front of him, comforting and shushing him as he caressed those familiar fingers between his large hands.

“I’m here now, Jinhwanie. Stop crying. We are together again.” Junhoe assured him, wiping the tears vainly from that face he still gaze upon in adoration even after almost twenty years of being apart.

“We are…” Jinhwan broke down at the thought. “But…not like this. Not in this condition.” He added wretchedly. Junhoe cupped Jinhwan’s face tightly between his hands.

“Stop this. Stop thinking like this.” Junhoe intoned solemnly, his gaze sharp and silencing Jinhwan once more. “You will always be perfect to me. I love you and I would continue loving you in whatever form you decide to so exist. Even if you’re a spectre and I am the dust motes floating in your aura, I would. As long as I’m with you.” Junhoe interred resolutely. Jinhwan’s gaze remained transfixed upon Junhoe, in awe and wonderment.

“You really do, don’t you? You never stopped loving me all these years.” Jinhwan whispered in amazement.

“It is the only thing I have kept alive in me, other than my will to raise Chanwoo. And that’s only because I made a vow to his father.” Junhoe stood up, scooping Jinhwan into his arms. Jinhwan had a moment of alarm that Junhoe would drop him, but he steadily stood up, carrying Jinhwan without much effort towards where the car had been parked.

“Wh-where…are we going?!” Jinhwan suddenly stuttered in alarm. He had never stepped out of the house since they shifted here. He barely stepped out anywhere after the accident.

“For our date, of course!” Junhoe exclaimed as he placed Jinhwan, without even so much as a single drop of sweat, onto the passenger seat of the convertible he had driven both Chanwoo and Donghyuk in the moment he discovered who his son had brought to meet him for lunch. Jinhwan looked miserably at Mameu, who was still standing at the entrance, clapping her hands and squealing like a spectator in the throes of watching a victory ceremony. “Mameu! Tell the boys we’ll be home late! Me and my love are out for a date!” Junhoe had announced gamely as he skipped quickly to the driver’s side. He snapped the seatbelt on for Jinhwan and then for himself before starting the engine.

“You’re crazy!” Jinhwan exclaimed in disbelief.

“For you? Yes, absolutely! We have almost twenty years to catch up between us and I am not wasting another minute more!” Junhoe yelled as he cruised out of the driveway. He waved at Donghyuk and Chanwoo, who had watched the proceedings with amusement from behind the second floor window. They had walked out onto the balcony.

“Hey you two! Back home by ten or you'll be grounded!” Chanwoo jibed, as Donghyuk elbowed him in disbelief. Jinhwan was gazing at Donghyuk helplessly, but Donghyuk only waved at him in cheer, that dimpled smile, more than enough to assure Jinhwan that he would be fine.

“Sorry old chap!” Junhoe shouted now, “Can’t hear you!” His voice fading, as the car sped out of the driveway with a splatter of gravel spewing from the rear tyres. Chanwoo laughed, placing an arm around Donghyuk in an affectionate hug as they watched their parents’ drive away into the sunset.

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my first multi-chaptered JunHwan angst (not angst). Feedback/comments are definitely welcome.


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